


Through the Looking-Glass

by TheCarmineWanker



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Soulmates, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28414209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCarmineWanker/pseuds/TheCarmineWanker
Summary: In which Tom is delivered to his soulmate by the Mirror of Erised. Soulmate AU/Time Travel AU.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 6
Kudos: 102





	1. Chapter 1

It was only natural that Tom Riddle would seek out and explore the Room of Requirement after learning about it toward the beginning of his sixth year. He decided it would be best to keep the thought he had of what he sought from the room vague- _I need a powerful magical object._ After all, he was here to study this peculiar room and seeing exactly what it could summon for him would be a good place to start. The door appeared, and he entered.

Inside, there was only a mirror. The presence of that mirror, alone, proved the value of the room to him, for he knew it to be the Mirror of Erised. He approached it, smirking, and examined the object, both the frame and the glass. Naturally, he expected that, if anything, the mirror would show him in a position of power or, perhaps, carnage. That is to say that he was rather put out when, instead, it showed him such a stupid thing as a _girl,_ and not just a girl, but one that he’d never seen who was wearing a bloody _Gryffindor tie,_ at that. 

His pristine face crumpled in anger. It was impossible that _this_ was what the Mirror of Erised would show him; something this stupid that not only was a spit in the face of his ambition but also a sharp jab at his family history, namely the part where he’s the _heir of Slytherin_ and this mirror showed him a bloody _Gryffindor._ That, plus the way that every last bit of the suffering he had suffered in his life was the direct result of how his mother had destroyed their lives all because of something as stupid as _lust_ and now this mirror is telling him that the one thing he wants most in life is some random girl? That, just like his mother, his life and all his ambitions will crumble at the hands of some stupid, useless attachment to another person? No, the only possible explanation was that this wasn’t actually the Mirror but, rather, a poor imitation of it, summoned by the room since it was unable to retrieve the real thing.

Now, that conclusion made no sense, given how, were that the case, the room very well could have summoned fake versions of all kinds of magical objects, even something like the Sorcerer’s Stone, but it clearly didn’t. However, in his anger, that didn’t particularly occur to him before he did something rather stupid and quite out of character for him- he punched the glass. He was somewhat surprised when the impact of his fist actually caused the glass to actually shatter but, moreso, when the shards of glass hung in the air, rather than falling, for a second or two, before they started moving around him. He tried to step away but couldn’t because, within seconds, the glass had sucked him into the frame, which, now, was more like a portal of sorts.

He didn’t realize that he was unconscious until he woke up, splayed across the floor in front of the mirror that, once again, had a complete glass surface without so much as a scratch on it. Tom didn’t know what exactly had occurred but what he did know was that he didn’t have time for this useless room and this wretched mirror. Standing up, he irritably brushed himself off and strode out of the room. His experience with the room already had him in a rather poor mood but the way people kept staring at him as he made his way through the halls made it worse. Still, he kept his face perfectly blank, refusing to make all his fellow students of his agitation. Unfortunately, before he made it back to the comfort of Slytherin common room and, by extent, his loyal minions, he was stopped by an old man wearing absurd robes who stared at Tom like he was a ghost. Not even, given that anyone in the castle would be well aware of the ghosts that dwell there and perfectly comfortable with them.

‘May I help you, sir? You look as though you have something to say to me.’

‘Tom Riddle… so that’s where you went.’ At the sound of the old man’s voice, his blood went cold because he knew, sure as day, that it was Dumbledore who was speaking to him. Somehow, impossibly, in the span of a few hours, Dumbledore had gone from a middle aged man with greying hair to an elderly one with white hair, a long beard, and spectacles.

‘What do you mean?’

Rather than answering him, Dumbledore insisted that they should talk somewhere more private and led him to the headmaster’s office. To Tom’s horror, the office was completely different and Dippet was only there in a painting, alongside all the other past headmasters. He wanted to shout at the miserable old fool before him, demand to know what was going on, what sort of sick joke this was meant to be but, instead, as always, Tom Riddle did what he did best- he held his tongue and kept his expression neutral.

‘Fifty three years ago, you vanished without a trace. You were last seen by your housemates in class that morning but never showed up at lunch and, after that, it was as though you had completely ceased to exist. That day, as you know, was Wednesday, September 22nd, 1943. Today’s date is Sunday the 22nd of September, 1996.’ Tom leaned in closer, almost threateningly.

‘And why, pray tell, should I believe a word of what you have just said to me?’

‘Because, even if you don’t right now, it would be good to keep in mind for when you find that you can’t enter your common room and that all of the people you knew are no longer here.’ The old man sighed. ‘Look, Tom, I know we don’t get on well but let me help you just this once or, at least, allow me to fetch someone else to assist you.’ He scrutinized the man and, for the first time since he met him, saw nothing but absolute sincerity.

‘Fine, then send for someone, if you insist.’ Dumbledore nodded and, then, sent out a summons. The few minutes that followed passed in thick silence until the headmaster’s little helper arrived.

‘What did you need?’ That little helper turned out to be a girl with bobbed black hair who looked to be about his age and, judging by her outfit, was a Slytherin prefect as well or, at least, she was supposed to be.

‘Ah, Pansy, there you are. This is Tom Riddle.’ He gestured to the boy in question and Tom smiled, shaking the girl’s hand in greeting. ‘There appears to have been a bit of a mishap of the time variety that has caused young Mr. Riddle, here, to have been dropped in here from the 40s.’ The girl, Pansy, snorted.

‘Headmaster, isn’t it unprofessional to call a prefect to your office just to try to pull a trick on them? You might do well to find a hobby.’ Tom allowed himself to smile. He found this girl amusing.

‘And here I thought you were conspiring with him against _me._ Perhaps that is the nature of this odd joke- that we are both meant to be tricked.’

‘Pansy, I called you here because you are a Slytherin prefect and also in the same year as Tom but now I wonder if it would have been more wise to send for Miss Granger instead.

‘Excuse me? Fine, if you want me to play pretend and help out the time traveler or whatever, then I will, even if you are being unprofessional here.’ Her mouth quirked up with humor. ‘But don’t imply that I’m so incompetent you need to get Granger to do my job for me; she’s got her own house to worry about.’ Dumbledore smiled in response.

‘Good, then I will leave Tom in your capable hands, Miss Parkinson. In the meantime, I will see about acquiring clothing and materials for him.’

‘Alright.’ She turned to Tom. ‘Well, come on, then.’ Midway down the stairs, Pansy started talking to him. ‘I don’t know if you’re a time traveler or not and, frankly, I don’t care. Either way, all I know is that you showed up out of nowhere, are supposed to be a Slytherin, are apparently in our year, and, by the looks of it, you’re supposed to be a prefect, even though we’ve already got ours. You don’t need a tour so, really, all you need is the password to the common room, a bed, and a schedule. Two of those things will be taken care of which means that all you really need from me is the password. Does that sound right?’

‘Yes.’

‘Perfect.’ They stopped when they reached the door. ‘The password is “obfuscate.”’ They stepped out into the hallway. ‘Lunch is in about 5 minutes, so we best get to the hall.’

There were two primary things that Tom noticed upon entering the hall- that he didn’t recognize any of the students whatsoever and that the bloody _Gryffindor_ he saw in that wretched mirror was sitting across the way, chattering with some of her housemates. This was the final push that caused him to recognize that yes, he really was in a different time and that, for once, Dumbledore was telling the truth. The rest of it, all that unpleasant business with that Gryffindor girl, he tucked away for later. He followed Pansy to the Slytherin table and, before they sat down, she made sure to introduce him.

‘This here is Tom, Dumbledore says he’s a time traveler but I think that’s rubbish. He just got here, though, so play nice.’ Her parting sentiment would’ve had him questioning the legitimacy of whatever version of Slytherin he was in were it not for her sarcastic tone.

‘Wait, what’s your last name?’ The boy who asked the question resembled one of his more useful followers, Thoros.

‘Riddle.’ The boy’s eyes went wide and the kid next to him that looked a bit like Abraxas froze, too.

‘So, when you vanished, this is where you turned up.’ Pansy wrinkled her nose in response to the whole exchange.

‘Come on, Nott, don’t tell me you actually believe this shite?’

‘My grandfather went to school with a boy named Tom Riddle who was a brilliant and extremely gifted wizard. They had all kinds of plans until, one day, Tom vanished. Grandfather said there was no trace of him after their potions class that morning, that he never even made it to lunch.’ The air was tense.

‘I understand Miss Parkinson’s disbelief. I, myself, did not, until I entered this hall, realize that it is not actually 1943.’ The corner of his lips quirked up into a hint of a smile. ‘You most certainly are not Thoros just as surely as that is not Abraxas sitting beside you.’ The one who resembled Abraxas chuckled.

‘No, I’m Draco. And you’re right, Theo and I are most certainly not our grandfathers.’

‘I don’t suppose you have proof of your identity, just to be sure.’ Tom smirked as he pulled out a locket from under his shirt.

‘Given that you are related to Abraxas and Thoros, I would assume that you know what this is.’ The boys looked at the locket in awe.

‘Yes, we do.’ He smiled.

‘Splendid.’

Tom tuned out Pansy’s incredulity at the situation and the rest of the noise around him as he turned around and caught that bloody _Gryffindor_ staring at him. Even worse was how, when he caught her staring, she _blushed_ and looked away. Knowing that that bloody mirror had not only shown him yet another insipid girl like all the others who fawned over him but also dumped him in a different _decade_ presumably all so he could be around her infuriated him. Naturally, he refrained from expressing this outwardly but, rather, turned back around towards his companions.

‘Who’s the girl who was staring at me just now?’

‘Oh, you mean Granger?’ Draco grinned. ‘Why, do you fancy her or something?’

‘Absolutely not.’ The icy tone of Tom’s voice ensured that no one among his dining company would be stupid enough to insinuate such a vile concept again.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hermione learned that they not only had a new student but that the student was a _time traveler,_ she could hardly contain her excitement. Pansy told her about it on their way to ancient runes after lunch while the boys went off to magical creatures.

‘I find it hard to believe but, _god,_ Hermione, you should’ve seen Theo and Draco when Tom showed them that locket.’ Pansy sighed, running a hand through her hair. ‘It’s all too crazy to be true but, then again, I can’t think of why Dumbledore would go to such lengths for a stupid prank and the boy’s robes do look rather vintage and he _does_ have a prefect badge.’

‘Pansy, that’s absolutely _incredible._ ’ Hermione practically sparkled with excitement. ‘Has he said how he got here?’ Pansy shook her head.

‘No, although I’m not convinced he even knows how. He was every bit as sure as I was that he was still in his proper time all the way up until we walked into the hall for lunch.’ Then, her face scrunched up like she smelled something bad as they entered the classroom.

‘What is it?’

‘Just remembered something from lunch. You, er, might not want to try to be friends with him or anything, he doesn’t seem to like you very much.’ Hermione’s brow crinkled in confusion.

‘What do you-’

Before Hermione could finish forming her question, their professor began the lesson, silencing all the chattering students. With a small frown and a bit of a shrug, Hermione decided to ignore what Pansy said, at least for the time being. She would do what she was going to do anyway- help out the new kid and hopefully make a new friend in the process. Ever since she befriended Malfoy, then Theo and Pansy, she felt much more comfortable dealing with Slytherins and was trying to help repair house relations. Her efforts had been met with success; the boys got on with most of the Gryffindors and Pansy was even dating Ron now, since the end of last term. Now they had this new student, this time traveler, who was also a Slytherin and Hermione felt perfectly qualified to help him settle in and feel comfortable.

. . .

The next day, the new boy got his schedule and, by the looks of it, had gotten new robes as well. Hermione was pleased to see that they would have potions together and laughed when Slughorn just about had a stroke when he saw Tom. That lesson, Slughorn had them break off into pairs and work together to brew felix felicis. She was pleased to see that she would be working with the new Slytherin.

‘Hermione Granger, I don’t think we’ve met yet.’ Smiling, she stuck out her hand.

‘Tom Riddle, pleasure to meet you.’ She noticed, as he shook her hand, that his skin was every bit as cold and smooth as his voice.

‘So, Tom, do you also find this lesson to be an elementary waste of time or were things different in 1943?’ She started cutting up ingredients as she spoke to her partner.

‘It is a tad better than watching paint dry, I suppose.’ She smiled.

‘Only marginally, though.’ They lapsed into silence for a bit until Hermione broke it.

‘So, how did you get here, anyway? From the past, I mean. After all, time turners were only invented in the last decade and can only send you backwards in time and that’s-’

‘Accident.’ He cut her off but it was the frosty tone of his voice that stopped her from inquiring any further.

‘I-I see.’ She frowned. ‘I’m sorry, it must be very difficult to have your life upended like that.’

‘Thank you.’ He left it at that and, somewhat uncharacteristically, she let him.

. . .

After that, their potions lesson was silent and uneventful. However, that did nothing to quell Hermione’s curiosity. How did he get here? Who was he? Why did he seem to hate her so much, like Pansy had warned her about? What was his life like before he showed up? Hermione knew two things: that this broody time traveler piqued her curiosity and that she never lets anything stand in her way when she wants something and, knowing those two things, she could reach the conclusion that what she wanted was to learn as much as possible about this new student and that she would not let anything stop her from doing so.

Naturally, since it was her, she started in the library. Students tended to not be the most familiar with the library in its content and layout and far fewer knew there was an archive that students could access. The archive kept documents belonging to the school dating all the way back to when it was first constructed. In there were thousands of photographs, old literary magazines and student newspapers that had since stopped being produced, and a copy of every yearbook that had been published since they first began to be sold back in 1912. These were all open to the public, though there were other things in there, like copies of student records, that required permission from faculty or, sometimes, the headmaster, specifically.

She started by going through what was available through public access, pulling everything from 1938-1943. Then, she methodically worked her way through all the materials she had pulled. As she had suspected might be the case, she didn’t really find much- well, except for one thing, although she wasn’t sure why it even caught her attention. There was a school newspaper that was in publication while Tom was at Hogwarts and they had written an article about his disappearance. In it, the reporter had interviewed some of Tom’s friends about it and, in Abraxas Malfoy’s account, he made it clear that he was very confident that Tom was fine and would be back soon, etc. When the reporter asked ‘what if Tom was actually dead’, Abraxas laughed and said that ‘Tom will be back, even if he dies.’

Now, Hermione didn’t know why this caught her interest. She knew that, if Harry went missing, Ron would be making jokes like that, so there was nothing wrong with Tom’s friends saying that about him. He could even have been referring to ghosts, although Tom didn’t seem foolish enough to choose to become one if he died. A bit confused and a tad frustrated, Hermione packed up and set out for the dorm to put her things away before her nightly patrol.


	3. Chapter 3

To say the girl was vexing was an immense understatement. He had hoped that, after he got her to shut up in potions, that she would leave him alone. Naturally, she didn’t do that, which, to be fair, he had at least somewhat expected, though that did little to temper how very irritating it was to him that she didn’t. It wasn’t so much that she failed to leave him be, much as she did fail at that, but, rather, how she kept . . . watching him. He knew that she considered him a mystery that required solving and that she thought that, somehow, if she kept watching him, she might find a clue. Finally, he decided that he had had quite enough and no longer had the patience for keeping up his facade of tolerance.

‘Granger, please understand that if you do not stop staring at me, you will be volunteering to help me test out some of the nastier dark curses.’ Given that he had expected that to frighten her, he was rather shocked when she grinned at him.

‘You do realize that’s what I do with my friends in my free time, right? Does this mean that you want to be my friend?’

That caught his interest. He had taken her to be an irritating Gryffindor of no particular value but, now, apparently, she was also an adept practitioner of the dark arts. For a moment, he was irritated that none of his followers’ spawn ever brought that up but then he remembered the first day in the Great Hall and how clear he made it that, if anyone so much as said her name, he would snuff them out of existence. Loath as he was to admit it, he was the only one to blame for this oversight.

‘Are you telling me that you, a Gryffindor prefect, practice the dark arts?’ She nodded.

‘Yeah.’

‘Why?’ She checked to make sure Binns still wasn’t paying attention before responding.

‘When I first became friends with Draco, he suggested it and I liked the idea because it makes sense that learning the dark arts will make you a better witch or wizard. Also, there’s so much more to it than the stupid narrative we get about murdering babies and all that.’

He was . . . begrudgingly impressed. Perhaps the mirror hadn’t been lying after all but, rather, had brought him to an ideal follower, an apostle among the disciples. Naturally, this meant that he would have to test her a bit.

‘What will you do when I go to Dumbledore about this?’ She laughed.

‘Over what? Dark magic isn’t illegal, nor is it officially banned from school grounds, and we all made an agreement that, in our dueling, we don’t use illegal curses. Even if that wasn’t the case, there would be no way to prove otherwise unless you _priori incantem_ ’d your way through every spell I’ve cast in the past month. Not to mention that Dumbledore actually approves of and even encourages our little dueling sessions since he used to teach defence, after all, and sees it as useful practice for that class.’ She smiled at him. ‘But you already knew this; you were just testing me.’

‘Yes.’

‘Hey, Tom?’

‘Yes?’

‘Do you happen to be immortal by any chance?’ His blood froze.

‘Why do you ask?’ She shrugged.

‘Just curious. I had a theory about the time travel thing, that’s all.’ He quirked an eyebrow, relaxing a bit.

‘Bit far-fetched, isn’t it?’ She gave him a look.

‘You traveling over 50 years into the future is less far-fetched than the idea that you were somehow immortal or otherwise preserved and locked away, asleep or something, for the same amount of time? Forgive me for considering different possible explanations for something as seemingly impossible as your time jump.’

‘I suppose you have a point. How did you first come to think of it?’

‘Read something in the library the other day.’ The twinkle in her eye caught his interest but, unfortunately, that was when she decided the conversation was over and returned her focus to the droning old ghost.

. . .

‘Draco, tell me about Granger.’ Lunch immediately followed Binns’ class and Tom was craving information. ‘You’re friends with her, right?’ He nodded.

‘Yeah. You probably want to know about our dueling.’ Next to him, Pansy lit up.

‘It’s positively _splendid_ getting to practice dark arts and defence at the same time with someone as brilliant as her. They call her the brightest witch of our age for a reason. She’s invented like half the spells she uses when we fight, you know.’ That got his attention.

‘Has she really now?’ Pansy nodded, then stopped.

‘Hey, I thought you didn’t like her. What changed?’

‘What changed is that now it appears she might not be half as worthless as she first appeared to be. Tell me more.’

And so they did. They relayed everything that could potentially be of use to him, everything about her intelligence, her daring, her cunning, her resourcefulness, her cleverness, her complete knowledge of the castle and all its rules and her litigatory prowess to complement such rules. They told him about how she, princess of Gryffindor, had managed to befriend half of Slytherin and all but end the age old feud between the two houses. As he received this information, Tom began to have the impression that the mirror hadn’t failed him after all and that, rather than shipping him off to be with some random girl, it had brought him to a perfect apostle.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione, of course, still had no idea about the mirror and no one else did either. However, she did have an idea, even though she had no confidence it would actually get her anywhere. A while back, when she first started dueling with Draco, the house elves told her how to find the Room of Requirement. It was with what they had originally told her about the room in mind that she began pacing in front of Barnabas the Barmy one fine Saturday afternoon. It was a Hogsmeade weekend, almost precisely one week after Tom’s mysterious arrival, so she knew she had plenty of time and privacy.

_I need to know what sent Tom to this time. I need to know what sent Tom to this time. I need to know what sent Tom to this time._

A door appeared and she entered. Inside was an empty room with a mirror in it. She approached it warily and gasped, jumping back in shock as the glass began to change, showing more than just her reflection in spite of nothing else being there. As she drew closer and saw as Tom’s image began to form on the glass next to her, she recognized the object as the Mirror of Erised.

Her thoughts began to race but she stopped them and forced herself to think rationally. Tom was sent 50 years into the future by the mirror and, according to that mirror, he was her greatest desire, even though she was certain that was false. The first question, then, was how Tom was sent 50 years into the future by the Mirror of Erised, the second was why a mirror that was meant to show the viewer what they most want was not actually doing that, and the third was what Tom would have seen in the glass.

With these questions, Hermione went straight to the library. She pulled every mention she could find of the mirror and piled them all on a table where she began to sift through them. She was on her fifth book when Tom showed up and interrupted.

‘Please tell me it isn’t another theory that you’re researching.’

‘Good thing it’s extra credit for Flitwick, then.’ Something about this situation made her believe that lying was her best choice. She would tell him the truth, potentially, once she knew more.

‘I can’t imagine why someone as brilliant as you would need extra credit, though.’

‘Do my ears deceive me or was that a compliment, Tom?’ Rather than deny it, he ignored her.

‘What is it that you are researching for this project?’

‘The Mirror of Erised.’ If not for her experience with Slytherins, she would not have known to look for small enough tells to be able to recognize that he did, in fact, tense oh so slightly at her words. ‘He’s really fond of it, says it’s a brilliant example of charms work and I’m inclined to agree. I can only imagine how someone could enchant a mirror to show you what you want.’

‘In your reading so far, have you found anything interesting?” He took the seat next to her.

‘Interesting how?’ He shrugged in a carefully poised and choreographed attempt to look nonchalant that she saw right through.

‘Well, for example, it is a mirror, a very old one, and I would imagine that it has been broken before. If so, who would have repaired it and how? Or would the mirror mend itself?’ That was a very interesting point he made and one that she was grateful for since it was the answer to one of her questions - Tom, or someone else, had broken the mirror.

‘I haven’t encountered that yet, seeing as I’ve barely started, but that is a fascinating idea and I hope I’ll be able to find the answer. Personally, what I want to know is if the spellwork can truly work with everyone or if there’s ever anything incorrect or inconsistent. With something like this, I feel like it must be impossible for it to truly work with everyone.’ He regarded her suspiciously and she knew it as she pretended to be unaware.

‘Perhaps that seemingly impossible consistency is why Professor Flitwick admires it so much.’ She nodded.

‘Yeah, you’re right. So, tell me, Tom, what do you think you would see if you looked in the mirror?’ Now, he was more than suspicious- he was defensive, though he tried not to let it show.

‘I’m not sure, I’ve never put much thought into such things.’

‘I think, for myself, it would be the opposite, that I can think of plenty of things I want but I don’t believe I could properly rank them and determine what I want above all else.’

‘Indeed.’ He stood to leave. ‘Much as I love our little chats, I should leave you to your unnecessary project.’ She smiled.

‘You know, on your first day here, Pansy warned me right after class that I shouldn’t speak to you because she was convinced you already hated me but, now, here you are, telling me that you “love our little chats.” It’s funny how things work.’

‘. . . Indeed.’

. . .

At the end of the day, she compiled and reviewed her findings. The only thing apart from learning that Tom had shattered the glass that was of any value to the task at hand was something she had seen about a very few cases where, instead of seeing something they know they want, the viewer would see a person they did not know. Nothing else was said about it that wasn’t just speculation. The speculation that was included, however, was quite . . . interesting, as it spoke of things like soulmates and past lives. Her best guess was that he had seen someone in that mirror he did not recognize, someone from her time, his soulmate, and, in some sort of accident, the glass was shattered and the mirror brought him forward in time to be with them. That would explain why he didn’t want anyone to know about how he came to be there.

Now, the question she was faced with was if she should bring this up with him or not. She was inclined not to since he had only been there for a week and was only just beginning to warm up to her. Also, something like this was quite personal and she didn’t want to upset him by bringing it up, especially since he might think that she was trying to uncover who this soulmate was. No, she would wait and, in the meantime, work on earning his trust while bringing him into her friendly dueling that she was certain he would love.


	5. Chapter 5

Tom was pleased to discover that Hermione was, indeed, every bit as good at dueling as Pansy had said and that, even with his intimate knowledge of the dark arts, he failed to recognize multiple different spells she threw at him. She was almost as good as him, if he was being honest, and their duel lasted at least ten minutes before he won. He recognized that she would be as good as him if she took it more seriously but, as it stood, he was unconvinced that she could even cast a proper _crucio_ on him. There was no part of her that was ever trying to harm her opponent, even though they were dueling with dark magic. Luckily for him, he was sure that was something he could remedy over time.

It had been a week since he first dueled her. In that time, she hadn’t said anything else about immortality or the Mirror of Erised, thankfully. He was certain that there was more going on with that than she wanted him to know but he couldn’t confront her about it because, in doing so, he would reveal himself to her, which he couldn’t risk doing in case she truly did not know anything. Rather, he watched and waited and continued to duel her. At the moment, he had just won their seventh duel and was standing over her with his wand at her throat as she grinned up at him. They were alone in the Room of Requirement and yet she was perfectly at ease with him.

‘That was positively splendid, Tom.’ As usual, he offered her his hand, which she took, and helped her to her feet. ‘Thank you.’

It was then that he noticed that, during their fight, his locket had slipped out from his shirt and was hanging loosely against his chest. He went to put it away but Hermione stopped him, catching his wrist with her hand.

‘When you first arrived, Pansy told me you had a locket and that Draco and Theo seemed to think it’s important. What is it?’

‘A magical object. A dark one.’

‘May I see?’

Surprisingly, he nodded, freeing his wrist to hand the it to her. Since the locket was still around his neck, this had the . . . unfortunate result of bringing them closer together. She was close enough to him, examining the locket, that he could feel her hair tickling his nose.

‘How did you get Slytherin’s locket?’ His eyebrows rose.

‘You recognize it?’ She nodded. ‘It’s a family heirloom. I am a direct descendant of Slytherin.’ 

‘How did it become a magical object? It was only ever a normal locket.’ He smiled.

‘I made it one.’ Her face lit up with excitement.

‘Really? What did you do to it?’ He paused, debating if he should say anything, before deciding that he could always obliviate her if he needed to since, after all, he was rather good at charms.

‘I made it into a horcrux.’

‘What’s that?’

‘It’s when you split your soul and store part of it in an object.’ He leaned in a tiny bit, diminishing the already minute distance between them, and lowered his voice. ‘That locket houses half of my soul.’ He was a bit surprised that she didn’t look scared or even concerned but, rather, was smiling.

‘So I was right and you are immortal. How do you make one?’

‘By killing someone.’ She didn’t even flinch.

‘Who did you kill?’ Her voice was a whisper now.

‘My mother.’

‘Why?’ He sighed and drew back from her, putting more space between them.

‘She was a disgusting, horrible woman. I was conceived because she drugged the object of her infatuation with a love potion and made sure to get pregnant and, once she knew she was, she stopped giving him the potion, thinking that my existence would ensure that he would stay with her. She was wrong and he left. When I was born, she wanted nothing to do with me, since I had failed to accomplish the one thing I was made to do and she left me at a muggle orphanage.’ Hermione was quiet and her expression was dark.

‘I’m glad you killed her; she deserved to die.’

He was well and truly shocked. Hermione Granger, prefect, Gryffindor’s princess, who he had decided was failing to meet her potential because she couldn’t mean it when throwing dark curses, just told him that she condoned him murdering his mother.

‘I can honestly say that I never thought you of all people would approve of murder.’ She shook her head.

‘There is a big difference between justice and cruelly ending the life of an innocent person. What you did was essentially give her the death penalty for rape and child cruelty.’

‘I’m . . . glad you feel that way.’

‘You know, I’ve never killed anyone, but I did keep an unregistered animagus in a jar for a year- she’s a beetle. Fourth year, we had the Triwizard Tournament and this horrid woman wrote awful things about the champions and the people around them even after Dumbledore banned her from coming here and it all got published in the Prophet. Once I found out about her being a beetle, I trapped her in a magically reinforced jar before I let her out on the condition she never write for a paper again. My point here is that that could have been considered cruelty but it wasn’t, it was justice because she deserved it. After all, the champions and my classmates weren’t her only victims, she had ruined lives before then.’

As she spoke he realized that she was telling him all of this to make him feel better, to share a time when she had exhibited cruelty in a similar situation. Her intention was to share something incriminating with him to even the score and eliminate the power imbalance that had been caused by him sharing about himself and would have remained had she not shared something in return. He was unsure if she did this consciously or if it had, by that point, become second nature from all her time spent with Slytherins.

‘I will keep in mind that, if ever you have a problem with someone, I should keep out of it because you can simply trap them in a jar.’ She laughed and, for the first time, he noticed how pleasant the sound was.

‘Or, if it’s bad enough, I can kill them and make myself immortal.’ The corner of his lips quirked up into a small smile.

‘It would be my pleasure to teach you how.’

‘Do you think I could get extra credit for it?’

Before he could stop himself, he laughed. He actually laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed, it had been years, and yet, this girl, this Gryffindor with her wild hair and dark magic and dark humor had managed to make him laugh. She, meanwhile, smiled, looking positively enraptured by her accomplishment.


	6. Chapter 6

It was safe to say that Hermione and Tom were friends now, or something akin to that. In class, they sat together and worked together in potions and, outside of class, they halfway tried to kill each other, ever since Tom had spoken to her about meaning it when she throws her spells at him. Since then, she had begun to win some of their duels and she felt really good about it. It was a fine Saturday morning, midway through the spring semester, and, like usual, they had gone to the Room of Requirement to duel. This time, Hermione was the victor as she pinned him down and took his wand.

‘I win.’

They were closer than perhaps she had first noticed or intended and could feel each other’s breath on their faces as they panted for air. As she began to pull away, he did something quite unexpected - he leaned up and kissed her. She couldn’t help but smile as she kissed him back. This felt like far greater a victory than winning their duel had. Then, as quickly as it had started, it was over as he pulled back.

‘I didn’t realize I would get a reward for winning.’ He gently moved her to the side so he could sit up.

‘If you see it as a reward, then think of it as one for all the progress you have made rather than your victory in this one duel.’ She pursed her lips and nodded.

‘That seems fair. Does that mean, then, that I have more to look forward to the more progress I make? Perhaps if I overthrow the Ministry I could earn a kiss that lasts more than three seconds.’ Her eyes sparkled with humor and a smile played at her lips.

‘I can assure you, Hermione, that if you were to overthrow the Ministry, I would marry you.’ Her breath caught in her throat.

‘When you say it, it sounds like you mean it.’

‘That would be because I do.’

‘Then I suppose I know what I’m doing over the summer hols.’ His eyes widened a fraction at her mischievous smirk. ‘I do have contacts in the Ministry, after all, and a merry band of Slytherins and Gryffindors who would love to help.’ He placed a hand on her thigh.

‘When you say it, it sounds like you mean it.’ His voice was low and his expression serious, almost threatening. She merely smiled in return.

‘That would be because I do.’

. . .

They remained in the room, discussing the failures of the Ministry, both old and new, as well as ways to either completely reform it or replace it with something else entirely for quite a while. That, apparently, had always been his primary goal - to overthrow the Ministry he found to be so deeply and inherently flawed and fix the system that governed the wizarding world. She found that she agreed with the points he made and was perfectly amenable to the ideas he suggested. Then, when there was a lull in the conversation, she took that as her opportunity to bring up something else.

‘So, Tom, do you think that, now, you would be able to tell me how you got here? To this time, I mean.’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘You already know, don’t you?’

‘Well, I think I have a pretty good idea but I’m definitely still missing something and, honestly, I’d rather hear it from you.’

‘What do you have so far?’

‘It was the Mirror of Erised. You saw someone in it you didn’t recognize, someone from this time, and, somehow, the glass broke and you were brought here. The texts I was looking at suggested that seeing someone you don’t know in the mirror could potentially mean that they are your soulmate so, if that’s the case, the mirror, in being broken, brought you to this time to be with them.’

‘And do you know who it was that I saw?’ His voice was low and quiet and Hermione would say he sounded almost nervous if she didn’t know better. She took a deep breath.

‘Me? It would explain why you hated me enough for Pansy to warn me about it before you even met me. Actually, if you were angry about what you saw in the mirror, then that would mean that the glass probably shattered because you hit it or something.’

‘Pansy was right, there is a reason why you are considered the brightest witch of our age.’ He sighed. ‘I learned of this room and came to explore it the morning I arrived here. I had decided that it would be best to summon it with the intention of finding a powerful magical object in order to test it. Inside was the mirror, which I immediately recognized. However, as I approached it, it showed me you, which made me angry since it seemed to be mocking me, telling me that I was meant to have my life yet again defined by some stupid woman. In a very rare laspe of judgement, I punched the mirror. When the glass shattered, it . . . floated in the air and pulled me into the frame as though it was a portal.

‘Learning that I had been brought 50 years into the future presumably so that I could be with some girl I had never seen before was vexing, to say the least, and the way you kept staring at me did nothing to improve how I viewed you. I had been sent into the future by a magical object just to be with some daft, insipid schoolgirl, and a Gryffindor at that. I do hope you are aware that since then, my perspective has radically shifted and I now recognize you as the brilliant witch you are and someone I would be glad to take down the Ministry with.’ She beamed at him.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ She took his hands in hers and squeezed them. ‘I can’t wait to take over the world with you, Tom, whether we’re actually soulmates or not.’

‘Neither can I.’ And, with that, he kissed her once more and she found herself thinking that the way his lips fit against hers was quite perfect.


End file.
